


American Fantasy

by Claireisclaire



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015)
Genre: 1964, Cold War, Cute, F/M, Fluff, Illya's protoge, Man From U.N.C.L.E. - Freeform, Napoleon's Sister, Russia vs America, Spying, romance during war
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-20
Updated: 2017-05-29
Packaged: 2018-11-02 19:03:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 6,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10950798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Claireisclaire/pseuds/Claireisclaire
Summary: Victoria promised Napoleon he would kill everyone he loves. But with Victoria extremely dead, the team has nothing to fear. Except Victoria's plan B, which was set into motion the moment she got hit with that bomb.Addie Solo is having a wonder time at college, and by wonderful she means she is on the borderline for going crazy. In between classes, social parties, and the political discord, she has enough to worry about. Until her brother she thought was dead shows up to keep her safe from people half way across the globe.Now she has to travel with her brother's new friends and Illya's young, extremely Russian, protoge. Will she survive the trip?





	1. Everything In Its Place

**Author's Note:**

> Addie's outfit - http://www.polyvore.com/addie_chapter/set?id=221881073

“I have too many fantasies to be a housewife. I guess I am a fantasy.” – Marilyn Monroe 

 

Addie walked home with her backpack swinging from her left arm, she thought about the book she had finished reading. It was a children’s book, but she found it magical. A rather long title, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory was a tale of imagination, the kind of stuff Addie loved. Though she was going to college to move up in the world, what she ever wanted most was to go on adventures. Sadly, that is not a career choice, so she is settling for the next best thing. Historian. 

Today was a particular good day, as the other women in her class did not poke fun at her. Most were not even in class, which was an even better surprise. There was a gathering, a tradition, she was told. Where young women wait out in the courtyard of the all-male college, and they wait for a man to take them on a “stroll”. It is shrewdly named, “Arbitrium hominis”, which is Latin for “man’s choice”, though Addie doubted any of those other girls knew that. 

Addie was, as the others like to call her, quirky. Not that Addie minded, she had her sights on having a mindset like Marilyn Monroe. Marilyn never minded what other people said about her, she did what she wanted. Men followed her around like…well, like men. Addie had had her fair share of admirers, not that she minded them. They were just distractions, and Addie did not mind distractions, she pushed past them like flooring a mustang in a race. 

“Addie,” she turned her head to see a few boys driving around in a green Volkswagen bus, “Addddddddieeeee,” her name was drawn out by Norton Concade, a confident boy she had the awful luck to share almost every classroom of her childhood with. 

“Good day, Norton,” Addie didn’t even turn her head. 

“We missed you at the Arb Hom,” another boy spoke out, “I waited all night for you. How could you break my heart?” He leaned out the window so far his friends pulled him back inside with loud cackles. 

“I pray that your driver is not as crapulated as the rest of you,” Addie continued to walk with her head straight forward. 

“Crapulated?” Norton snorted, “well, Miss Harvard, our driver happens to be…uh…what’s your name?”

Addie did not hear his response, but took the opportunity to turn quickly to the right, away from the road, she cut across the courtyard and disappeared into a group of people. She swerved in between people until she came to the courtyard apartments. She took the extremely long way about, but at least she wouldn’t have to hear her name in a drunken slur. 

“Hello, Ms. Harper,” Addie greeted the elderly woman whose eyes sunk deep into her wrinkled skin. Her glasses are lucky to be attached to a string around her neck, for they would surly also submerge into her flesh. 

The elderly woman glared and flared her nostrils at her, “Miss Solo, if you would only spend as much time on your studies as you do on your hair…”

“I spend more time on my studies, Ms. Harper, I assure you. My hair is simply a statement of the times. We cannot go back, so we must keep up.” 

Ms. Harper’s eyes turned pencil thin, and they fallowed Addie’s “in style” bouffant hairstyle. Though, she didn’t style hers as high as some of the others, she did put in some effort to blend in. 

The first thing Addie did when she got back to her room was kick off her boots. The gave her an extra three inches, which she desperately needed, but God damn did they blister easily. She then stripped off her coat. Addie then fell, face first onto the bed, in a soft groan. 

She let herself stay in the position for a few seconds only, she rolled onto her back and closed her eyes. Once she opened them she would have to get up, get changed into her work attire and head back out for the night. Her job wasn’t that bad, she liked her co-workers and for the most part she was treated as a human person. What she loved most about her job was that is gave her time to go to distant places, to imagine herself with a purpose, a quest. Her brother used to tell her stories of princess’ and how brave knights came to save them, as she got older she requested that her brother change the story so that the princess saved herself. “Truly ahead of your time, Addie,” her brother would say. 

Her sweet brother, Leon, Addie touched the feather necklace handing down by her chest. It was the last gift he had given her before heading off to war, died when she was very little, little enough that she only remembers his voice. Her mother burned the only picture when she burned down the house. 

Addie mentally kicked herself for taking her break time to cry about the past. “The past does not change so we must not dwell on it,” she would tell herself. And now, she had to go to work. 

Just outside Addie’s window a tall man in a trench coat snapped a picture of the young girl who had started to shut the blinds. He smiled, “found you.”


	2. Day Off Work

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Addie's work outfit - https://www.polyvore.com/addie_chapter/set?id=221907307
> 
> Also, I'm changing the rating to mature, because I'm feeling some badass killing scenes will come up later.

“Fear is stupid. So are regrets.” – Marilyn Monroe 

 

Addie walked out of her apartment complex with her apron stuffed into her backpack along-side her textbook. She wanted to read ahead for tomorrows class, and they were moving onto the War of the Roses, which Addie thought was the most beautiful name for a war. 

“Addie, what are you doing here?” Mr. Parker asked, setting down a plate for a customer. “Didn’t you get my letter?” Mr. Parker, owner and manager of Parker’s Playhouse, was a large man with a contagious laugh. 

Addie shook her head, “I haven’t checked my mailbox, today. Do you need me to take an extra shift?” Extra shift = extra money, extra money = more money to have for travels. She liked to day dream about the places she’d visit. Growing up, Leon would read her stories from Brother’s Grimm fairy tales. Up until the war, she wanted nothing more than to visit Germany, specifically Bavaria, the Black Forest interested her. She would draw them in her art classes; underneath her bed were hundreds of sketches of forests. 

“I don’t need ya today. But will you come in an hour earlier on Saturday? I just got a reservation for a party of fifty. Go, relax, take the night off,” the large man chuckled and his stomach giggled as he walked. 

“Thank you, Mr. Parker. I’ll be there bright and early on Saturday,” Addie happily skipped out of the restaurant. With her freedom for the night she decided to head into the square. Her work outfit without the apron is sensible, a simple yellow mod dress and a grey overcoat. Her had tied her hair into a low ponytail that bounced with each step by her left ear. 

She headed straight for her favorite store on the square, Hidden Treasures, a book and pawn shop with a coffee bar. Of course, she could not afford any of the books, but the nice couple who own the shop let her use their store as a library. 

“Mrs. Garland?” Addie peered behind the front counter. “Mr. Garland? Hello?” Addie walked to the back, where the coffee bar was, “Ruth?” She called out the barista’s name. No one seemed to be near. The bell on the front door rang, and Addie parted books to look toward the door. There was no one there, her heart rate picked up. Earlier in the semester, the girls on her hall convinced Addie to watch The Innocents, a horror movie about ghosts. Addie’s wild imagination put a ghostly hand on her shoulder, so she quickly turned around. Of course, she found nothing there. She breathed a sigh of relief. 

“Addie?” Addie fell down when she heard her name come from her side. She looked up to see Mrs. Garland with a pile of books in her hands, looking down at her. “I thought you were working tonight.”

“I got the night off, I am so sorry. Are you closed?” Addie stood back up, smoothing down her dress. 

“No, dearie. I just stepped out to grab this collection we got this morning. It’s the full collection of The Chronicles of Narnia, original 1950 printing addition. These are right up your ally, dearie. Take as much time as you need, I can stay as late as you wish.” 

“Thank you so much, Mrs. Garland,” she took the eight books from the shorter lady and headed to the couch. 

“Dearie, how is your family?” Mrs. Garland asked. 

“Um…still dead, Mrs. Garland,” Addie spoke as she sunk into the grass-colored couch. 

“See, I thought you had told me that before,” the elderly woman said as she turned on the coffee machine, “but then these men came in asking about you. So, I thought I was mistaken.” 

Addie knew it was Norton and his friends, probably. A girl from Addie’s class said that any man would go the farthest lengths for a doll he liked. Addie had rolled her eyes, if a man wanted to go to the farthest lengths why didn’t he just come to her first. Not go asking around about her. Men, no more than boys in larger suits. 

Back at Parker’s Playhouse, Mr. Parker had to kick out a group of three Italian men who were barating his waitress. “Leave, before I get the police involved.” 

“Where is Adelaide Solo? We are…family,” one Italian man cooed at Mr. Parker. 

“Addie doesn’t have a family, who are you?” The Italian man took out a gun and shot off one bullet in the man’s head. The other two men dragged the body to the dumpster and grunted as they tossed his body into the garbage. 

“Avrebbe dovuto lavorare stasera (She was supposed to be working tonight),” the Italian with the gun kicked the ground. 

“La faremo. Non lasceremo Victoria in giù (We’ll get her. We won’t let Victoria down),” the other man put a hand on his shoulder. 

“Quel cazzo americano pagherà. Voglio farlo vedere la sua sorella morire, come ho visto la mia (That fucking American will pay. I want to make him watch his sister die, like I watched mine).”


	3. Victoria is (not) Back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes I wish I lived in the 60's but then I remember how much work they had to do to look "respectable" and I think it's a lot of work to just brush my hair...

“I restore myself when I am alone.” – Marilyn Monroe

 

Addie left Hidden Treasures six hours later, she had read the first two books and was eager to continue. She might skip her last class to have some extra time to read them. By Saturday she didn’t wouldn’t have any time. 

There was never any safety question walking from the square to her apartment. She walked to the beat of the song in her head. “You think you lost your love. But I say her yesterdaa-aay,” she sang softly. “It’s you she’s thinking of and she told me what to saa-aay.” 

“She said she loves you and you know that can’t be bad. Yeah, she loves you, and you know you should be glad. Woooooooo,” Addie laughed at herself as she tapped her heels together. 

Today was a good day, she decided, got off early from work and got a new set of books to read. She smiled up at the sky, she could see Orion’s belt, that was the only constellation she knew. It was at a family camping trip to their backyard, they didn’t have the money to go on those fancy trips with tents and marshmallows, so we brought all of our blankets outside. Their backyard was basically a large hill, and there was a perfect part in the trees so that the night sky was practically a projection screen. 

Leon had let her use his letter jacket as a blanket; Addie had fallen asleep listening to her brother tell the stories of the stars. 

Many people lost loved ones in the second world war. Instead of being sad every time she saw Leon’s face or heard his voice, she would smile and think of all the wonderful things he did for this world. He fought for his country, that’s the best honor any man could have. The folded flag, now in ashes at her old home, was the only consolidation. They said they couldn’t find his body, but Addie imagined that he was in Heaven, playing football and hanging out with his friends that went with him into the war. 

Addie had to sneak up the side of the apartments, she was slightly late for curfew. By slightly late, she meant an hour late. But the other girls had shown her the ladder you could jump and grab. The other girls were nice, none of them really got to know Addie. She was an outsider; the other girls were all native Californians. Nobody teased her for being from Alabama, but she could see their side glances, as if she was lesser than them. Her clothes were not new; they were not the latest trend. 

Climbing through her cracked window, Addie happily peeled off her clothes and slid on her pajamas. She whipped off her make-up and brushed her teeth, she put conditioner in her hair and brushed it out straight, she would have put them in curlers, but she decided to get a good night sleep. She was too excited for tomorrow. 

“Tomorrow is the best thing in the world,” Leon would say. “Tomorrow is a day without mistakes, a new day that carries all the happiness of yesterday and all the hopes and dreams of today.” 

Her feather necklace rested in the crevice of her chest. She never took it off, a constant reminder that she had a family, even if it was broken and dead…she used to be loved. And hopefully, someday, would be loved again. 

Across the world in a hotel in southern London, Napoleon Solo starred across the top of his cards at the Russian that starred back. Illya and Napoleon didn’t see eye to eye on most things, and by most things, it means almost every single little thing.

The room was filled with smoke and alcohol, though it was all forgotten by the two partners in a match of cards and wit. 

Napoleon looked down at his cards quickly, making sure not to give anything away with his facial features. He analyzed Illya’s eye movements, how he licked his lips. 

Illya licked his lips and parted them, Napoleon raised his eyebrows in preparation.

“Got any 4’s?”

“Dammit, Peril,” Napoleon laid down two 4’s from his deck. 

Neither man jumped when a manila package slammed down between them. “This was left outside my room,” Napoleon looked up at the tired, and seemingly angry, Gaby. “Waverly said the package would come in two days. Did either of you order something?” 

Illya reached for the package and opened it, his eyebrows furrowed as he pulled out pictures. His mouth dropped open and the pages began to crumble under his fingers. 

“Illya?” Gaby’s voice became more awake with his change of mood. 

He flipped through the pictures, “it’s Victoria.” 

“Dead women can’t blackmail,” Napoleon set down his card face down. 

“Then someone else is carrying out her threat,” Illya threw a few pictures down. Napoleon turned his head. A fuzzy picture of a young man working out in the early morning. “That is Pavel, my cadet.” 

“This was taken by a Leicaflex camera, 35mm single lens reflex,” Napoleon spoke. 

“Who is this?” Illya turned the last picture around. 

The picture of Addie, a blank expression on her face, closing blinds on the second floor of an apartment complex. Napoleon sits back in his chair and undoes his tie. 

“Solo, who is this?”

“My little sister,” he pushes the chair back so hard it cracks the wooden floor. This causes the other members of the room to look over. 

Illya stand and grabs Napoleons arm, “he is a sore loser, excuse us.” He pulls Napoleon through the doors and up to his room. 

Napoleon grips the wall so hard his knuckles go white, “you’ve both read my file.”

Gaby looked at Illya who kept his eyes down on the pictures, “she died in 1955, house fire.” 

“Well, obviously not,” Napoleon turned and took off his tie and jacket. “We have to postpone this mission; we’re finding my sister.” 

“Napoleon-” Gaby started, intending to convince him to wait. 

“And Pavel, they’re in danger.” 

“Waverly-” Gaby tried to butt in. 

“Waverly will go along with it,” Illya spoke. He grabbed his suitcase underneath his bed. “We’re leaving now. If I leave now I can get a plane to Anadyr.”

“I’ll find a plane to Alabama, Gaby. Stay here and make contact with Waverly, explain and show him the pictures. We’ll meet back here in a few days.” 

The men left the room and all Gaby could do is stand there with her mouth hanging slightly open. She sighed and slipped back into her bed, turning off the light and snuggling into her bed.


	4. Reunited

https://www.polyvore.com/addie_chapter/set?id=222005355

“It’s better to be unhappy alone than unhappy with someone – so far.” – Marilyn Monroe

Napoleon sat with his head rested on the head rest of the airplane chair, he closed his eyes and waved off the flight attendant who’s pointed heels stopped at his chair. 

He hadn’t thought of Addie in a long time, he didn’t do much dwelling on the past. She was sent the article which claimed her and his mother died in the house fire. He mourned in his own way, but he loved his family. He didn’t know how much his “death” would affect his mother. The article pointed out that she had been slowly deteriorating in her mental health.   
During the war, Napoleon carried his sister’s picture in a metal locket. One side had her school picture, the other, was taken by their mother, when they had made a campout in their backyard. He had told stories that he had learned in science class, about the stars. 

Napoleon remembered putting his letter jacket over her shivering body, he wanted to go back inside and sleep in his bed, but Addie had curled up next to him and he knew that he would soon be leaving for the army. So, he leaned back, putting his arms underneath his head, and watched the stars until the dawn rose. 

He had gotten intelligence with some agents back home, and his sister was a student at the new Pitzer college in Claremont. Addie was a model student, the top of her class and working almost full time at a diner right by her apartment. Napoleon would not expect anything less; Addie was always smart. Her teachers praised her test grades, she even was awarded smartest kid in her class. She got a certificate and got her picture taken for the newspaper. Napoleon had used the money he'd gotten from the garage that day to buy her a chocolate bar. Addie seemed more excited for the chocolate bar than her certificate. 

Back then, their mother was a sane woman, who kept up with the latest fashions. She had the certificate laminated and it hung on the fridge until the fire. 

What would he say? Napoleon hadn't seen his sister in 10+ years. She thought he was dead, then again, he thought she was dead. It was laughable if you didn't think so hard. 

Napoleon thought of how to approach her. As an American spy, he was trained to be as smooth as butter 100% of the time. He was confident around women, all women. But this one woman, even if he still saw her as a little girl, would be his hardest catch. Would she be mad? He can't tell her everything, or even most of anything. He rubbed his head, then smoothed his hair down over his ears. 

When the plane landed he walked purposefully to the apartment, he stood outside, looking up at the window which had been in the picture. Yellow curtains, he couldn’t remember what her favorite color was. Was it yellow? Or was it purple? She certainly owned a lot of blue when she was little, but then again, their mother did all the shopping. 

“No boys allowed back here, sir. If you wish to call on a lady you will do it at my front desk, not back here like a thug,” Ms. Harper pointed a stern, elderly, finger at Napoleon. 

“My apologizes, Ms. Harper. I am Napoleon,” he held out his hand, “Addie’s brother.” 

“No you’re not. I met her brother this morning, and you look nothing like him,” Napoleon dropped his hand and walked closer to the woman, making her step back. 

“Was he Italian?”

“Yes, now leave before I call the police-”

“Where did he take her?” Napoleon pushed on.

“Nowhere, Addie had left for class already,” Napoleon left the apartments and rushed toward the campus. He ran through his memory, he only got a few seconds to look at her file. What class did she have first? What building was it in? What room number?

Napoleon quietly entered a small building with only two floors, he went to the top floor and the last one on the left, he opened softly. He took a seat in the back, a professor stood talking loudly in front of a chalkboard painted with illegible writing. 

Throughout the class, Napoleon looked at the back of each head, most were covered by hats, which did not help, but he had his eye on a black hat in the front. Black hat, yellow, stripped jacket, blue scarf. Bits of brown hair escaped outside the hat. 

When the professor excused the class for the day, Napoleon held up a text book to his face and tilted his hat low. He scanned each face as they left, he did not see his sister’s. Then he looked at the front of the room, the girl with the black hat and yellow jacket had gone to talk to the professor. Napoleon lowered the textbook and willed the girl to turn around. 

When the professor shewed the girl away she turned around and it made Napoleons heart race faster than running away from gunfire. His palms were sweaty and he suddenly felt choked in his tie. 

The girl walked up the stairs, she did not look at him, as she was concentrated on the textbook in front of her. 

“Addie,” Napoleon said standing up. 

Addie turned around, “hmm?” She spoke bringing her eyes up slowly. When she looked at the man in front of her she dropped her textbook, it fell to the floor with a low thud. “Leon?”

Napoleon took a step forward, he was glad to find that she hadn’t taken a step back from him, but did shrink away at his presence. “They said you were dead,” she whispered. 

“They said the same thing about you,” he took another step and opened his arms, caroling her into them. He waited until he felt her arms tighten around his waist to rest his chin on the top of her hat. “Addie, I have to get you out of here. There are men here to kill you.” 

“Huh?” Addie said, not really hearing what he had said. All she could hear was the beating of her own heart in her ears as she pressed against her brother’s suit. 

“I’ll explain all I can on the way, we have a plane to catch.” Napoleon was the first to step back, he grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the class. 

“I had a dream like this once,” Addie admitted. 

Napoleon smiled back at her, he could see the confusion in her eyes, he also saw the happiness and love. She hadn’t forgotten him and that was all he had hoped for, “me too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How do y'all like it so far? This is really fun to write.


	5. The Flight of Knowledge

“If you can make a woman laugh, you can make her do anything.” – Marilyn Monroe

 

The plane ride involved a lot of staring, Addie would watch the way Napoleon’s jaw clenched when he was thinking; Napoleon would watch the way Addie smiled widened when he was talking to her. 

“Leon, are you a spy?” She whispered. 

Napoleon smiled at the seemingly innocent question, “why are you whispering? No one is listening. And I’m not right now, right now I’m just your brother who found out you were alive. Addie, if I had known that you survived the fire I would have-”

“No, Leon, don’t. You were dead, if you came back mother would have freaked, she may have burned down the entire town instead,” Addie pushed her hair back over her neck instinctively. 

“What’s that?” Napoleon pushed her hand away and moved her hair behind her shoulder, he noticed hard second degree burns across the left side of her neck, it highlighted her jaw line. 

“I tried to get her out of the chair…” Addie realized she hadn’t ever talked about it. She had an appointment with a counselor but she never went, she couldn’t afford a counselor. Instead she wrote it down in her journal, she brought it with her to college. But a few weeks before she had somehow lost it. “She wasn’t who we remembered, Leon. She didn’t cook, I had to take out a loan from the bank just to get her to eat.”

Napoleon felt his throat closed up, if he was there, if he hadn’t taken that damn deal. If he hadn’t…but he had. And it was done; his mother was dead and his sister burned. 

“I’m so sorry, Adelaide,” Napoleon grabbed her hand in between his. 

“Sometimes,” Addie started with a soft smile, “I imagine that I was in a battle. Fighting an evil enemy that was sent to destroy our country. I imagined that I was awarded with metals and then Brigitte Bardot played myself when they created a motion picture of my achievements.” 

Napoleon smiled at Addie, kissing her hand then placing it back down on the arm rest between them. “I missed your stories, Addie. You were always more creative than me, my favorite was the one about you and I walking to Mexico to save the President.”

Addie smiled, and propped her legs up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them and resting her head on her knees. 

“I left before you told me how it ends,” Napoleon said. 

“Oh, we return the President in a military tank right up to the White House and then there was a day created from our victory. August 15th was now known as Solo Day.” 

Napoleon chuckled, “I like that ending. Your stories always end happily.”

“I’ve never really imagined anything else. I know it’s not statistically correct to assume that everything ends well…but a girl can dream. Can I ask you a question? It’s okay if you can’t answer it,” Addie asked. 

“Yes,” Napoleon nodded. 

“Have you fighting the Russians?”

“Uh…” Napoleon barred his teeth, “in a way. I actually work with one.” 

“You work with a communist!” Addie said louder than she wanted. She covered her mouth and looked around her, the other people faces in their books and magazines. “I thought they were the enemy.” 

“They are, but I am a part of a special team. We are, as our boss says, the best of the best,” Napoleon said in his best impression of Waverly. “And a while ago I killed a bad woman who was very dangerous.”

Napoleon went on to explain how he had gotten ‘a dangerous weapon’ safe and out of her hands. He paid attention to Addie’s expressions as he told how he became part of the team U.N.C.L.E. He told her about Illya and Gaby, “they seem lovely,” she commented. 

“Gaby is lovely, you’ll really like her,” Addie straightened her spine. 

“Met her?”

“Yes, you’re going to stay with me and my team until we find the rest of Victoria’s team.”

“Will you kill them?” Addie asked. Napoleon read his sister’s face, her eyes were wide, not narrow as someone with judgement would be. Her lips were relaxed, not pressed together like someone afraid would. 

“I would rather interrogate them, bring them to justice,” Napoleon looked out the window of the plane, seeing the land through the clouds, “but these men are trying to hurt you. And I won’t let that happen,” Napoleon looked back and watched Addie yawn. “Close your eyes, it’s a long flight to England.” 

Addie closed her eyes and rested her head on her brother’s shoulder. 

Napoleon thought about what would happen after all this was over. He didn’t want to just drop Addie back off at college, he wanted to be the brother he used to be. He never had a reason to quit being a spy, now that he has one, how will he tell the others?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, who's better Marilyn Monroe or Bridget Bardot?


	6. павел

“Imperfection is beauty, madness is genius and it’s better to be absolutely ridiculous than absolutely boring.” – Marilyn Monroe

 

Illya lead his young cadet through the halls of the British hotel. Pavel hadn’t questioned his officer when he was told to pack his things and meet him by the train station within the hour. He didn’t ask anything nor did he expect to be told anything. 

Pavel was a young man, unlike most men his age he had long hair, going down past his ears. While he was training or on missions he would keep it up in a bun underneath his cap. Now, his hair was loose and in uneven knots underneath his worn cap. 

“Теперь вы не должны убивать американца, когда видите его (Now, you must not kill the American when you see him).”

Pavel stopped, “американец (An American)?” Pavel sighed and cracked his neck as he followed Illya up the stairs. 

“американец. И его сестра. (An American. And his sister).” 

Illya knocked on the door in front of them, “Gaby, I am back.” 

Gaby opened the door, her hair done up, the room was set up for Pavel. “Pavel, you will be staying here until Cowboy gets back from America.” 

Pavel looked over at the multiple bags, along with an embellished suitcase, “are those for me?” 

“No,” Gaby spoke with her hip jutted out, “it is for Napoleon’s sister. She did not have time to pack so I picked her up what she would need for our trip. However long it will take.” Illya noticed the cold tone, but he assumed it was aimed towards him. Not that he knew what he had done. 

“Pavel, this is Gaby, she is-”

“-going to sleep. Unless Napoleon arrives do not disturb me,” she turned quickly and slammed the door behind them carrying the bags with her. 

Pavel pivots smirking at Illya as he turned. “You did something wrong.”

“I am aware but I do not know what it is.” 

Pavel dropped his bag and kicked it underneath his bed. 

“Do I have a mission, commander?” Pavel started to unbutton his vest.

“Yes, I want you to stick with the American’s daughter at all times. From what I read up about her she is unskilled in our field of work. Then she died,” Illya loosened his tie, “but she lived.”

“Strange.”

“Indeed,” Illya’s mind went off outside the room. What had he done to Gaby to make her treat him like this? He hated her like this, she was much more fun to be around when she was happy, annoyed even was better than mad. 

“What’s her name?”

“Huh?” 

“The American girl, what is her name?”

“Adelaide.” 

“Adelaide,” Pavel took off his cap and placed it on the nightstand. 

Illya opened the door to the hallway, “I hope you plan on dressing better tomorrow. We’re meeting with British Intelligence in the morning.” 

“It’s good to see you too, Kuryakin.”


	7. Ghosts in the Wall

“In spite of everything life is not without hope.” – Marilyn Monroe

 

Addie hobbled behind Napoleon, they had arrived early in the morning. Napoleon smiled as he explained jet lag to her. 

“It sucks,” Addie complained. 

“You’ll get used to it,” Napoleon opened the door, inside was one small bed, along with bags scattered across the floor. “Gaby bought you some clothes since we had to leave so quickly.” 

Addie smiled tiredly, “that’s so nice. I don’t recognize any of these brands, which means they must be fashionable.” 

Napoleon pulled back the covers on the bed, Addie kicked off her shoes. 

“There are pajamas in there, you can get changed. I’m right across the hall if you need anything,” Napoleon intended to leave her at that but Addie wrapped her arms around him. 

“I’m glad you’re not dead, Leon.” 

“I’m glad you’re not dead either, Addie,” Napoleon rubbed the back of her head. “Goodnight.” 

“Goodnight.” 

Addie sorted through the bags, she them up in the small wardrobe beside her bed. She found pajamas and slid them on. 

“Silk pajamas, who am I, a princess?” 

“I wouldn’t imagine a princess staying at a hotel like this,” a low, male, voice came through the wall. 

Addie squealed and jumped back, reaching for the umbrella she had laid down on the bed, “who’s there?”

“I’m a ghost,” the voice cracked up a bit at the end of the word ‘ghost’. Addie put down the umbrella and put on hand on her hip. 

“Oh really? Well, Mr. Ghost, how did you die?” Addie walked to the wall by her bathroom, she pressed her ear to the wallpaper. 

“It was so long ago, but I believe it had something to do with my affair with Queen Victoria, I was her stable boy, you see-” Addie walked to the other side of the room and found the point where the voice was originating. “-I knew it was wrong but in my heart I knew-” Addie banged hard on the wall with her fist. “-ow.” 

“Haha, found you,” Addie gloated. 

“Eh, it was fun while it lasted,” the ‘ghost’ gave up, his voice moved farther away. “You must be Adelaide then.” 

Addie sat on her bed, facing the wall, “and how do you know that?”

“My commander, Illya Kuryakin, he works with your brother,” Addie criss-crossed her legs. 

“Oh, yeah, that name sounds familiar. Do you know why we’re here?” Addie played with the edge of the pillow case as she talked. If the girls back in her class knew that she was talking with a Russian, she could only imagine what they would say. 

“Their last mission had some loose ends, we’re here to tie them up. Well, that’s why I’m here,” 

“Are you an agent too?” 

“Yes,” a Russian agent, the only thing worse than a Russian. “And you are…”

“Not an agent, extremely not an agent. I’m more of a lover than a fighter.” Addie heard soft laughter from beyond the wall. “So, I guess I’ll see you in the morning, Mr. Ghost.” 

“Most people call me Pavel.”

Addie pushed her feet underneath the covers, “goodnight then, Pavel.” 

“Goodnight, Adelaide.”


	8. Lobby Meeting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.polyvore.com/addie_chapter/set?id=222395843

“Always, always, always believe in yourself, because if you don’t then who will, sweetie?” – Marilyn Monroe

In the morning Napoleon knocked on Addie’s door multiple times before entering, he found his sister with the sheets almost off the bed, she was holding the pillow half under her body and half propped up onto the bed frame. 

“Addie, time to wake up,” Napoleon thought of a very similar incident, Addie’s second day of kindergarten, she had had such a horrible first day she pretended to be asleep to get out of it. He tried to remember how he got her up. “I didn’t want to have to do this,” Napoleon picked up one of the pillows from the floor and lifted it over his head. He then began hitting her in the head and back with the pillow, getting a bit harder each time. 

“Jesus Christ, Leon,” Addie sat up, her hair hanging in singular strands in front of her face, “are those pillows made of rocks?” 

“I have a very strong arms,” Napoleon laughed. 

“Then you should be a baseball player, not a spy,” Addie pushed her hair back, getting some of her fingers tangled in it, “this isn’t a dream right?”

“No, Addie, it’s not a dream. I’ll leave you to get ready, meet us down by the lobby,” Napoleon smiled and left, closing the door softly behind him. 

He would have trouble keeping a smile off his face for the rest of the morning, his family was whole…well, as whole as it was ever going to be. Not that he had been searching for this wholeness, but once he had Addie in his life he wondered how he got by without her. She was like a nightlight, always a comforting presence in a dark room. 

“I have set up house for us in Bilbao,” Illya said as Napoleon entered the lobby. “We will take plane then car to small hotel.”

“Waverly will meet us there, with intel on our bad guys,” Gaby pulled her sunglasses out of her purse and put them on. 

“I am ready for your instructions, Kuryakin,” Pavel walked with perfect form and stood at attention. 

“There will be no need for that here, Pavel. We are going undercover, yet again,” Illya leaned on the wall crossing his arms. 

“It’s kind of our thing,” Napoleon smiled. 

Pavel looked back to Illya, “it’s his thing, I do all the real work.” 

“Yeah, the real work meaning messing everything up and me cleaning it up,” Illya huffed out a fake laugh. 

“Whatever you say, Cowboy.”

“Whatever you say, Peril,” Napoleon copied his accent. With their 

“Are they always like this?” Addie asked Gaby, the men turned to look at her. She wore a pale pink mod dress with an over coat and tan hat that matched her shoes. 

“Some days are worse than others,” Gaby made eye contact with Illya, he had to figure out why Gaby was mad at him. “You must be Adelaide,” Gaby held out her hand. 

“You can call me Addie,” Addie shook her hand with a smile. 

“Illya Kuryakin,” Illya shook her hand, Addie laughed at the sheer strength in it, “you look nothing like your brother.” 

Addie laughed, “I’d own a lot of bitchin’ suits though, so I wouldn’t complain.” 

Illya smirked and released her hand.

“Pavel Orlov,” Pavel held out his hand, Addie smiled. 

“Ah, Mr. Ghost, nice to meet you in person,” Napoleon leaned forward with a ‘hmm’. Addie turned, “the walls are extremely thin, did you notice.” 

“I noticed,” Gaby said pushing off the desk she was leaning on and walking outside, “let’s go.” 

Addie looked to Napoleon, “what about our bags?”

“They’ll be sent to our new hotel in Bilboa.”

“Bilboa? Sounds exotic,” Napoleon slid into the car. 

“It’s Spanish,” Gaby said in the passenger seat up front. “I don’t speak Spanish.”

“I’m a bit rusty,” Napoleon admitted. 

“Never heard a word of it,” Pavel closed the door, he sat crushed between the left window and Addie. 

“Bueno puedo hablar español (It's a good thing I speak spanish),” Addie folded her hands in her lap. 

Everyone in the car looked back at her, “I lived in California,” she said plainly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know that feeling when you read something so cute? I felt like that thinking of what I have planned for these characters. EEP


End file.
